Considering it was The Habit Of Being (the selected letters of Flannery O’Connor) which brought me to Nashville in the first place, you’d think I’d write more letters. Quick mental glance around reveals I don’t even have decent Writing Paper – Printer paper, Copy Paper, Wrapping Paper (for impious reasons), Baking Paper even, but no writing paper. Hell, I even have a Writing Desk, ordered up special & put in the right window for decent light.
My let’s call him Brother-In-Law sent us a cursive written post card from Germany with a brief but lively accounting of his doings. I remember well writing from Venice just to let folks know I hadn’t died & to exploit the WOW of the Venice Postmark – by the way a perfectly lovely Post Office well worth the detour even if all you do is text. So I thought about actually writing back to him but with the long postal delay he will be back in Cincinnati soon & more easily reached by phone.
With both my parents gone the most likely target of any letter I might write is some imposing lawyer somewhere. Such a decrescendo
Ecbatan 